Fire and Ice
by yuugata no baka
Summary: Ren's relationships with Horohoro and Hao are completely different, but equally powerful. Oneshot, HoroRen, slight HaoRen.


Fire and Ice

A typical name for another typical SK shounen-ai fic. The Shaman King fandom is still going strong, and my love for it will never die. So, here's a little sort of abstract HoroRen/HaoRen fic because Horohoro and Ren will forever be my one true pairing.

Inspired by the many other gorgeous SK fics that involve fire, ice, snow, rain or any other beautiful imagery to that effect. I can't name you all, but thanks for the motivation, and keep our fandom rollin'!

* * *

Ice was jagged, crystalline. When you looked directly into it, the maze composed by the endless planes meeting and making dangerous edges and lofty peaks, it hurt, somewhere deep, to think that you'd never find the true core that wasn't perhaps just a reflection. And when Ren fought with it, it would've left gauges, if it didn't melt so hurriedly.

Usui Horohoro wasn't particularly vocal with Tao Ren when it came to love. They were quite clear when it came to hate, stringing together such immature insults as "I hate your spike!", or "I hate the way you use such useless words, baka'temee!" (Shouting in a language that was neither of their native tongues, but the one they used nonetheless.) When it came time for tenderness or a flicker of romance from across the dinner table, a grave look in Horohoro's eyes and a similar, unyielding gold glare spoke for them.

If glaring daggers was how they showed their concern for each other, then when they fought, it could be argued that love was there, because they glared at each other a lot then.

Not that they often fought over more than passing disturbances, anymore. Nothing deeper than perhaps what dinner they would be having that night was debated. It was, after all, Ice who showed his...whatever it was, concern, passion...by shielding Ren for the first time. Not by pinning him beneath his mighty white arms, (as Ren had imagined in his nightmares) but by lifting him up, his scrawny pink arms trembling as the blow intended for his companion seared through his abdomen.

Ren remembered the intensity of the shiver that ran up and down his body when Horohoro grabbed him up by the waist and hoisted him high and out from himself, saving the smaller shaman from an intense assault. Unable to hold it and Ren, his precious Ikupasui fell to the ground, and Horohoro, wordlessly protecting his teammate from a cleanly-placed blast from an oversoul thought frantically, eyes squeezed shut, _'please don't let me drop him . . . just a little longer, please!'_

After the horrendous blast the pair clambered to the ground, splayed in a snowflake shape of limbs akimbo, and clothing loose. Ren stared for a few moments at Horohoro's limp, gloved hands, unable to think, and then kissed the Ainu awake before rising to finish what had been started.

Whatever it was, Ren undoubtedly finished it. He could hardly remember how the fight started, or who his opponent was, just that the enemy had _hurt_ his comrade and he deserved his punishment. Unknown rage flooded his narrow chest and Ren lunged at whatever and whoever it was who_ hurt_ Horohoro, retreating only when a body fell to the ground.

They questioned, of course, the way they acted towards each other, either in their own minds or with each other, even though then, it came out in awkward and loud phrases – "Why do you make me _feel_ like this?! What did I do to make you do thisto me?" – outbursts that would be met with hostility, because that's just what they did when were too confused to do anything else.

They knew they left Chocolove, the third member of their team, the one who, when it came down to it, had the most resolve, out of it, when they quarrelled. He would turn to Mic or Avaf and try to realize that it was better that way, that he was safer being left out of their maelstrom of mixed feelings, that there simply was something between them that he never would be part of.

Ren argued to himself, then, that it was better not try to grow his relationship with Horohoro. They were merely teammates, allies, not _best__ friends_, not passionately _in love_ with each other. But when his eyes connected with those of a great, hulking Ainu man who shared Horohoro's blood, whose gaze said something like _"you'll never be part of his world__"_ he grew insistent, certain that he would have the Ainu prince for whatever he wanted him for.

So he asked The Question.

"Well, maybe I do!" Horohoro responded plainly, after only a slight bit of hesitation to the question Ren asked with exasperated unease. (He didn't expect or want an answer with any truth: _"Do you love me?" __"No way!__ What're you, _crazy _or something__"_)

Then there was the time when that mighty white blade came down from the clouds and tore through the elegant vessel that was sticky and slick with Ren's existence.

Horohoro felt nothing but pathetic when Ren perished by Grande Fantasma. He did not remember stealing away in shame, but he did remember swearing revenge on _who-knows-what _because the fact was that Ren was dead and Fire was the perpetrator.

It was rather absurd that Fire had never hurt Ice, though he had the absolute capacity to do so. He never particularly targeted Ice . . . perhaps he would have had he known that Ice was the very thing keeping Ren out of his grasp.

There was the mangled story from Opacho about the great arctic wolf whose silver fur was splayed over Horohoro's shoulder blades; but it seemed pretty unlikely that Hao, the Future King, feared a beast like him.

Ren didn't like to think that the real reason why Hao never killed Horohoro was him. He loved him, and Hao wouldn't kill something Ren loved. That idea was absolutely preposterous, because Hao _could_ and _would_ kill whomever he wanted, whenever he wanted.

Asakura Hao and Tao Ren spoke openly of matters of the heart. Ren was told he was adored, admired and thought about often, and that Hao was willing to give him everything, if only he would come join him.

"You deserve more, Ren," Hao droned, as if complaining, thick hair tumbling around him and diving unscathed in and out of flames. His words were wicked, but absolutely sincere – as Ren had seen it – Hao possessed inner realization, immortality and perfection, though he glowed with malevolence.

"There's a whole other plane you can explore," Hao said plainly once to Ren, perched on the outline of an old Patch Village adobe slab. "You know, you've nearly mastered that which other shamans are just beginning to explore – and to think, so many mortals will never even see a single spirit! It's sad, really. But, there's so much more, for you, Ren. You, my dear Ren, belong in a different dimension. My dimension. Come."

Ren breathed hard when Fire swooped down and gripped his chin. He thought hard too, about the reason he found himself standing dead still in the fading desert sun in the center of the whimsical Patch. Fire was passion, freedom, but Ice was stability – and it sounded so lame like that – but that's all Ren ever wanted. A wall on which to lean. The rest, he would figure out himself.

"You think you're so damn smart," Horohoro said, as he emerged from a darkened, brick alleyway, "usin' all those fancy words?" He wore full battle-gear in the fashion of his noble, long-suffering heritage, ready to throw his life and legacy into the fray to be the one in Ren's heart.

In the startling image of his comrade looking strangely adult, Ren was transported to a time years in the future, when none of the three of them held any trace of childish uncertainty. He saw himself standing on the threshold of a room, but the one who he's kissing isn't clear. He can't see the face, but the lips are cool and he knows.

However, before the future, before the commencement of this odd, three-pointed relationship...so clear in his mind, Ren sees it, a trembling first kiss, pink lips and peach fingers. And perhaps then Hao saw it too, though it was only of Ren's memory, the adolescent ineptitude framed against the night's black and speckled sky, taking into his grasp the one he "chose".

They've kissed before. Ice, slow and sure, non-aggressive, made it there first. It should mean nothing to Hao, but it meant _everything_, and his choice of action was instant. To leave.

As Hao departed with a twinkle in his eye, his smile takes with it something of Ren's, like steam is pulled through the air buy a hand sweeping through it; some part of Ren that is fluid and red hot.

Ren retakes his stance next to Horohoro, who does not question him; he looks away from the silhouette of the building from which Hao leapt, to the sturdy visage of Ice. And maybe, tonight, before they take up their places in their separate futons, side by side, they'll share another slight kiss. Just to say, "I'm here, you're here." And Ren knows that though he lies down with Ice, a part of him will ever be engulfed in Fire.

* * *

There.

Rather confusing, was it? I'm still a little wary of the part wherein Ren sees Horohoro's father...I don't believe that either knows of the other's existence. But, I thought it would be an interesting interaction.

I see it as such: Hao loves Ren for whatever reason, superficial or maybe a very deep admiration, but Ren loves Horohoro because he cares about him completely, despite his past, or his power, or his family, or anything. This is how I see their relationship. Probably because I'm such an avid HoroRen shipper. And I will continue ever to be!

Mou, HoroRen fluff is much easier and more rewarding to write...I'll do that next, I think.

Thank you for reading, and reviews will be much appreciated.


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